


burst the bubble

by thunderylee



Category: Kis-My-Ft2 (Band)
Genre: Canon Universe, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-29
Updated: 2012-10-29
Packaged: 2019-01-18 07:33:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,212
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12383712
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thunderylee/pseuds/thunderylee
Summary: Everyone loves Tamamori, but Miyata loves everything about him.





	burst the bubble

**Author's Note:**

> reposted from agck. written for cotton candy bingo (the little things).

“It’s a good thing you got to him before he got hot,” Nikaido says as they watch Tamamori rehearse for his solo. “You’d be totally out of his league now.”

Miyata just chuckles. “We’re not together like that, Nika.”

“You know what I mean.” Nikaido rolls his eyes. “You two have a love far beyond what can be defined in words.”

Sighing, Miyata rests his chin on his knees, gaze locked on Tamamori twirling around the stage in his street clothes that are possibly more ridiculous than his actual costume. He’s singing his cutesy song about bubbles and Miyata wonders why everyone doesn’t see what he sees when they look at him.

“I certainly can’t argue with you there,” Miyata says under his breath, and Nikaido just pats him on the shoulder before he gets up to do other things with his time. Miyata has other things he could be doing, too, but right now all he wants to do is watch Tamamori in his element, that quirky creativity that shines every time he moves, and be proud that he’s come this far.

Even if it means he’s suddenly seen the same way as the other two with whom he shares the spotlight—a sex object.

Miyata starts to frown, then remembers that Tamamori wouldn’t know a come-on if it literally hit him it the face. Girls could throw their panties at him like they do in the States and he’d just look at them in confusion. He’s no virgin, but people basically have to say “hey, I want to have sex with you” before his face will light up in recognition and he’ll grin because, well, he’s a guy and guys enjoy getting laid.

Everything is so simple to Tamamori, and that’s part of why Miyata wants to spend so much time with him. When he’s with Tamamori, everything is simple for him too. He has no worries, no unhappiness, and no problems. He told Tamamori this once, and Tamamori had just smiled and said he’d stay friends with Miyata forever just to keep all the bad feelings away.

To Miyata, this is better than any kind of romantic relationship he could ever have. He doesn’t dare get too close, because his heart won’t be able to take it. Just the thought of kissing Tamamori has Miyata zoning out—imagine if it actually happened. Miyata has so much love for Tamamori that he hasn’t been able to look at anyone else in that way, ever since he’s known him, and thus Miyata’s only experience with anything has been a girl whose friend had hooked up with Tamamori one night a couple years ago. Tamamori had encouraged him to let go and do it, so Miyata had, thinking of how Tamamori was doing the exact same thing on the other side of the wall.

Miyata recalls all of this as Tamamori continues his silly solo, taking in his sheer determination to make it perfect. Tamamori makes effort when it matters and cares a lot about making people like him. He’s not that comfortable in his new sex object role, but he’s trying. He’s awkward and clueless and very, very weird, and those are all reasons Miyata’s drawn to him. He’s the one Tamamori can speak freely to, because he won’t make fun of Tamamori’s words or abstract ideas, just embrace them because this is who Tamamori Yuuta is, even if Miyata’s the only one who sees it.

“Stare harder,” says a deep voice, and Miyata doesn’t even jump as Kitayama plops down next to him. “I love a good drama, but four years is a long time to wait for a happy ending.”

“That’s the difference between you and me,” Miyata says quietly. “You always want something more while I’m fine with what I have.”

“Does he even know?” Kitayama asks. “You know how he is. He won’t know unless you tell him. And don’t give me any bull about ruining anything, because nothing short of the end of the world could cause a rift between you two—and maybe not even that.”

Miyata grins despite himself. “That’s probably true.”

“Listen to leader,” Kitayama says firmly. “You’re depressing me.”

He leaves and Miyata just shakes his head. They don’t understand, none of them do. They don’t feel the way Tamamori leans against him when they’re just standing there, how he trusts Miyata to hold him up, and they don’t notice how Tamamori’s nerves calm every time Miyata clings to him, even if his face says otherwise. Miyata is Tamamori’s most important person, has been for a long time, and Miyata will be there as long as Tamamori needs him.

The next person to sit down next to him doesn’t speak. Miyata knows it’s Fujigaya by the cologne, but he isn’t as bothered as he was with the others. Fujigaya is quiet when it matters, sitting much like Miyata with his knees pulled to his chest and his chin resting in the dip between them.

“You should see your face,” Fujigaya finally says, his tone low and gentle. “When you look at him, your face says everything your voice won’t.”

If it were anyone but Fujigaya, Miyata would be irritated, but Fujigaya’s own expressions do absolutely nothing to mask his true feelings and it takes one to know one. “I’m happy the way it is,” he says, repeating the phrase like a mantra.

“I know,” Fujigaya replies, “and that’s what makes it so sad.”

Tamamori’s solo ends and he jogs right over to Miyata, grinning proudly like a child wanting his parents’ praise. His face falls a little bit when he sees Miyata’s solemn expression, but he’s still hopeful as he kneels down. “Was my song that moving?”

Miyata laughs, though his mood takes a few seconds to catch up with him, and he just shakes his head. “You’re such a star, Tama-chan.”

Predictably Tamamori rolls his eyes, bringing the palm of his hand down gently on the top of Miyata’s head. “You spoil me.”

“I just speak the truth,” Miyata says with a shrug, and now Fujigaya’s the one rolling his eyes.

“You two are too cute,” Fujigaya says outright, then gets to his feet and walks backstage.

“What’s his problem?” Tamamori asks, pouting.

“Who knows,” Miyata replies.

“Maybe he’s lonely,” Tamamori offers. “I feel bad for him.”

“Maybe he is,” Miyata agrees. “He hasn’t had a girlfriend for a while, and he’s been so busy—”

“That’s not what I mean,” Tamamori interrupts. “I’ve never had a girlfriend and I don’t feel lonely at all.”

“You’re a rarity,” Miyata says, and thinks it’s the understatement of the millenium.

“How could I possibly be lonely?” Tamamori asks. “I have you.”

Now Miyata’s attention is perked. “Me?”

“Yeah.” Tamamori looks right at him with his lopsided smile. “It’s impossible to be lonely when you’re around, and even when you’re not, it’s somehow still okay. Everyone should have a Miyacchi in their lives. But not you, because you’re mine.”

Miyata just stares at him. “Do you really mean that?”

“Of course I do,” Tamamori says, looking affronted that Miyata would even question his intentions. “I don’t say things I don’t mean. Let’s get something to eat, I’m hungry.”

Tamamori gets to his feet first, pulling Miyata up by his arm, and Miyata feels like he’s walking on clouds the entire way to the dining area. He doesn’t even know what he eats, just that it mixes in with the butterflies in his stomach, because to Miyata that was better than a love confession.

What do the others know? Kitayama especially shouldn’t be talking to anyone about matters of the heart, and Nikaido is emotionally fourteen years old. Fujigaya _may_ have some qualifications to lecture on the topic, but just because he’s experienced something doesn’t mean that he’s the knower of all. Everyone is different.

“Miyacchi has been distracted today,” Tamamori comments after he clears his bowl. “Is everything okay? Do you want to talk?”

_Yes_. “No, everything’s fine,” Miyata insists, smiling for effect. It’s not that hard to do since Tamamori’s right there. “Just nervous about the performance.”

In response, Tamamori grabs his tray and changes to the seat right next to Tamamori, so close that their arms bump. “There.”

“Hmm?” Miyata’s arm tingles where Tamamori’s makes contact.

“Being around me makes the bad feelings go away, right?” Tamamori asks seriously. “Maybe I wasn’t close enough this time.”

It takes Miyata a second to find his voice amongst the aching of his heart. “Thanks.”

Tamamori waves it off and he takes another sip of tea, then turns towards Miyata. “Stay over tonight.”

“Okay,” Miyata agrees instantly, and Tamamori’s grin is so uplifting that Miyata doesn’t think about their unconventional situation for the rest of the day.

Later, after Tamamori’s mom has stuffed them full of dinner and they takes turns in the bath, a depressing drama is on TV and Tamamori sighs in annoyance. “Why can’t they make a drama where both people like each other and there’s no stupid conflict?”

Miyata hides a smile as he replies, “Then it wouldn’t be a _drama_.”

“I know, but…” Tamamori trails off as he slumps back against the couch cushions. “Ugh, it just all seems so unnecessary. Why can’t it be more like ‘I like you’, ‘I like you, too’? Then they get to be happy together.”

“I think it’s because real life doesn’t work like that,” Miyata says gently. “Viewers want something they can relate to to make them feel better.”

“I guess I can understand that,” Tamamori says, sounding reluctant. “When Gaya and I did _Ikemen_ , he kept saying ‘at least Kitayama’s not a girl’ every time we felt overloaded with drama filming and concert preparations.”

Miyata bursts out laughing. “Leave it to him to choose that point to focus on.”

“Then he said ‘and I would never let you steal my woman’ like it was even an option.” Tamamori huffs like he’s offended. “I don’t understand that at all. Like this lady, she’s cheating on her husband with this other guy and he doesn’t even care. The other guy, I mean. I couldn’t do that. I would be like ‘go home and work things out’.”

“You’re a good man, Tama-chan,” Miyata tells him.

“I wish everyone could be like me,” Tamamori mutters. “Then they’d be happy.”

“Except when drama plots get under their skin,” Miyata teases, and Tamamori elbows him. “Besides, if there was no conflict, there’d be nothing interesting to watch.”

“Putting it like that, you make it sound like relationships are boring,” Tamamori scoffs. “There has to be something interesting about them, otherwise people wouldn’t spend their entire lives looking for one.”

“I wouldn’t know,” Miyata says quietly.

“Then you can’t say for sure whether it’d be interesting or not,” Tamamori challenges him.

Miyata doesn’t say anything, and Tamamori makes a smug noise like he won. In a way, he had, but Miyata’s more amused at how riled up Tamamori gets at irrelevant things. This always happens when they watch dramas together—Tamamori gets so invested in the characters that when something bad happens, it disappoints him. It’s just one of the many strange habits this presumed sex object has that Miyata finds more endearing than if he was half naked and covered in baby oil.

This particular rant also gives Miyata hope, because it implies that once Tamamori latches onto someone, it’s for life. He doesn’t doubt that Tamamori would be devastated if Miyata ended their friendship, though that’s not something Miyata takes for granted at all. It’s just nice to have that peace of mind where Miyata knows Tamamori’s not going to abandon him when he meets a girl. It’s the one thing Miyata’s confident about in his life.

“So many people just replace those they’ve previously declared as loved ones in their hearts,” Tamamori says, completing Miyata’s thought out loud. “It makes things like ‘I love you’ meaningless, doesn’t it?”

They’re talking about two different things and the same thing all at once, and Miyata just nods. A weight drops onto his shoulder as Tamamori gets comfortable, stretching out on the couch while Miyata sits up straight like he’s in a meeting. This conversation is encouraging and discouraging at the same time, because while Tamamori is clearly open to the idea of love if he’s lecturing fictional characters about it, he’s also a bit cynical.

“Maybe being in love makes you stupid,” Tamamori concludes, having reached the point that he’s exhausted the effort he wants to make on his frustration.

Miyata just laughs and watches the rest of the episode with minimal interest, followed by a variety show that has them laughing. Gradually Miyata notices a lack of response from Tamamori and turns to find him sleeping, having passed out right on Miyata’s shoulder. Miyata turns to look at him and is struck with a combination of warmth and chills as he sees Tamamori’s face, relaxed with his lips parted a little and his eyelashes fluttering. Miyata brings his other arm up to brush Tamamori’s bangs out of his face, which has him whining and wiggling closer, frowning when he can’t make Miyata’s shoulder any softer by rubbing his head against it.

“Come on, let’s go to sleep,” Miyata whispers, and Tamamori makes a noise that isn’t entirely conscious as he lets Miyata guide him across the house to his room. Tamamori clings to Miyata’s arm like he would be lost otherwise, but he doesn’t let go when he flops onto his bed. It’s certainly not the first time they’ve slept in the same bed, usually under these circumstances, but Miyata feels differently about it tonight. Probably because he can’t seem to shake the words of his meddling bandmates despite spending the entire evening with Tamamori.

Tamamori falls right back to sleep facing him, and Miyata manages to get them mostly under the covers before getting comfortable himself. Tamamori’s sleeping face is mesmerizing and Miyata’s fingers are drawn to it once more, pushing his hair back and smiling at the way Tamamori moans softly at the touch. It’s times like these that Miyata thinks whatever they have is more intimate than anything they could physically do together.

That’s not a good line of thought to have right now, but Miyata’s long since learned to train his body not to react to those kinds of things. He’d be a liar if he said he wasn’t sexually attracted to Tamamori, but he’s accepted that nothing like that will happen between them and he’s content having him just like this, mostly laying in his arms and reacting favorably to Miyata’s touch. Miyata could stay like this forever, even if he only has the nerve to do it while Tamamori’s asleep.

His fingers curl down to Tamamori’s jaw and Tamamori’s head lifts up, exposing his throat in an unconscious plea for Miyata to touch him there, and Miyata obliges. Tamamori squirms and inhales sharply, breathing out of his mouth, and Miyata finds him more enticing right now than anything he’s ever done on stage or in the magazines. He should really stop, but Tamamori seems to like it, his hand tightening on Miyata’s arm as Miyata’s fingers move back up to his face. He traces around Tamamori’s ear and finds himself entirely too close to Tamamori’s face, only a small distance separating their mouths, and his hand is already placed on the back of Tamamori’s head as he leans in to steal a kiss.

It’s not the smartest decision he’s ever made, but he’s not in his right mind as everything Tamamori surrounds him and clouds his judgment. He doesn’t press his lips to Tamamori’s for very long, but they’re still tingling when he pulls away and his hand returns to threading through Tamamori’s hair. Tamamori’s hand lets go of his arm and Miyata thinks nothing of it—Tamamori often moves in his sleep—but then it’s creeping up Miyata’s own neck to his jaw and the next thing he knows, those lips are back on his.

Miyata’s eyes pop open as fast as they fall shut, his entire body falling victim to the realization that Tamamori’s actually kissing him. He has to still be asleep, that’s the only explanation for it, but as much as Miyata wants to wake him up, he can’t bring himself to do it. It feels so good, finally feeling the pressure of Tamamori’s lips on his and the hot breath on his face as both of Tamamori’s arms loop around his neck. Miyata returns the gesture, wrapping his own arms around Tamamori’s thin waist and pulling him closer by a force not his own, and it’s Tamamori who licks his way into Miyata’s mouth as he gradually rolls on top of him.

“Tama-chan,” Miyata gasps, his voice coming out much less frantic than he feels. “Wake up.”

“I am awake,” Tamamori mumbles between kisses, not even stopping long enough to speak. “You think I do this in my sleep?”

“Wait,” Miyata says, and Tamamori huffs as he pulls back, clearly annoyed at being stopped. “Why?”

“Why not?” Tamamori asks. “It feels good. And you started it.”

“I did…” Miyata trails off, unable to think of an argument to that, other than the truth of course. Tamamori seems to take that as consent and returns to Miyata’s mouth, kissing him so deeply that Miyata can’t fight it, arching beneath Tamamori and dropping his hands to slip up Miyata’s shirt. They roam around, presumably seeking out what Miyata likes judging by his reactions, and Miyata uses what little brain power he has to wonder if Tamamori is this attentive to everyone he touches like this. Then Tamamori’s pinky fingers bump his nipples and he moans into Tamamori’s mouth, which just intensifies the feeling as Tamamori does it again.

“Mm, Miyacchi,” Tamamori breathes, and Miyata’s becoming less and less opposed to letting this happen. He had no idea how badly he wanted Tamamori to say his name like that until he heard it, his own hands tugging at Tamamori’s shirt until Tamamori harshly breaks their kiss to pull both of the garments over his head.

Then he’s all over Miyata, touching him everywhere and rocking down against him and all Miyata can do is arch into it, his own hands grasping onto the strong muscles of Tamamori’s back. He’s hard before Tamamori even makes contact, but then he feels Tamamori hard as well and gives up trying to hold back. He pushes up into the friction, making Tamamori gasp into his mouth and now it’s Miyata who has control of the kiss, fueled by everything he’s been feeling toward Tamamori this whole time.

_I love you_ , Miyata thinks again, his heart bursting out of his chest with each passing second as Tamamori covers his body completely. “I love you so much.”

Everything pauses, kind of like time stopped except that Miyata can still feel Tamamori breathing, his heartbeat just as fast as Miyata’s. “What did you just say?”

Miyata freezes. He must have thought out loud. Finally he’d managed to say the words, but at the absolute worst time. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to—”

“But did you mean it?” Tamamori cuts him off, staring down at him with big eyes, suddenly wide awake. “Miyacchi?”

“I’m sorry,” Miyata says again, cringing at the way Tamamori’s looking at him. “It’s true, I’m sorry. I’ve been in love with you for four years. At least.”

His eyes are closed, but he hears Tamamori gasp, followed by a staggered breath. “Toshiya, look at me.”

It’s probably the first time Tamamori has used his first name, and it’s what has Miyata opening his eyes to find Tamamori biting his lip above him. He can’t see very well in the dark, but Tamamori’s eyes look glossy and Miyata’s heart aches from upsetting him so much. “I’m really sorry—”

“If you apologize one more time, I’m kicking you out of my bed,” Tamamori says firmly, his voice wavering. “I really should just kick you for not telling me until now.”

Another ‘I’m sorry’ is on the tip of his tongue, but Miyata bites it back. He doesn’t know what else to say. “I didn’t want you to get creeped out and avoid me,” he finally admits. “What we have right now is perfect.”

“It is,” Tamamori agrees, smiling a little, “but it could be so much better.”

Before Miyata can process those words, Tamamori’s back in his mouth and it’s exceptionally different than before. Slower, but just as intense, each touch of their tongues a shock, and Miyata really does lose his mind as Tamamori kisses him breathless. He registers Tamamori’s hands on him, fingers sliding along his skin much more gently than before, and it occurs to Miyata too late that there’s a reason for this.

“Wait,” he says, using all of his willpower to push through his daze to speak. Tamamori only pulls back enough to leave his mouth, their lips still touching as he makes an impatient noise. “What are we doing here?”

“Having sex?” Tamamori replies. “I know you want to.”

“I do, god I do, but…” Miyata curses his brain that can’t actually come up with any logical reason to stop right now. “I don’t want to do it just to do it.”

That has Tamamori leaning up on his arms, giving Miyata the most annoyed, _hottest_ look Miyata’s ever seen from him. “Toshiya. You make things so complicated. I love you, you love me, now _fuck_ me already.”

“You…” Miyata starts, then Tamamori smiles down at him and makes all of his apprehensions disappear. “Okay.”

This time it’s Miyata who pulls Tamamori back into his mouth, hands dropping right to his ass, and it’s all so fast that it pulls a pleased moan of surprise from Tamamori that tickles Miyata’s tongue. Tamamori catches up right away, grinding down hard enough to pull a loud noise from both of them that is thankfully muffled by their kiss.

“I haven’t done this before,” Miyata hisses, suddenly nervous. “I mean, with a man.”

Tamamori gasps, though that’s probably more from the way his erection is rubbing against Miyata’s through their pants. “Really? Not even with the other members?”

“I was waiting for you,” Miyata gets out, then Tamamori kisses him harder. If he didn’t feel it before, he definitely does now—Tamamori’s reaction to Miyata’s unplanned confession, how it makes him feel. Miyata reaches down for the waistband of his pants and hesitates, but then Tamamori’s kicking off the rest of his own clothes and Miyata’s shyness is overcome by his desire to be skin to skin with Tamamori.

He arches at the first touch of Tamamori’s cock to his without any barriers, escalated by Tamamori’s hand wrapping around both of them as he rummages through something on his bedside table. Then he’s straddling Miyata’s lap and bringing his knees up along Miyata’s sides; this may be Miyata’s first time doing it like this, but he has a pretty good idea how it works and his breath hitches as he realizes that Tamamori’s doing it to _himself_.

“Tama-chan,” Miyata says in mild amazement, his arousal soaring as Tamamori starts gasping and rocking back against his own touch.

“Use my name,” Tamamori hisses, almost sounding angry as a low groan follows his words. “None of the others called me by my first name. I want you to be different.”

Miyata’s heart thumps at the admission. “Yuuta,” he tries again, “can I do that to you?”

“Next time,” Tamamori says, then shudders on top of him. “I’ll go slow and tell you what to do, but right now I need you inside me as soon as possible, okay?”

It’s Tamamori’s usual impatience times ten and with considerably less clothing, and Miyata just nods, knowing better than to get in his way. One of the items Tamamori had grabbed from the table was a condom, which Tamamori pointedly pushes into Miyata’s hand. No instructions are necessary as Miyata rolls it on, hissing at the way his cock jumps because he’s _that_ turned on.

“Just a little longer,” Tamamori whispers, and Miyata belatedly realizes he’d been whimpering. “Almost ready.”

The way Tamamori is panting into Miyata’s mouth is so hot, his face adorably scrunched up in concentration as he stretches himself for Miyata. Miyata can’t wait to do it for him, maybe try it on himself to feel whatever Tamamori’s feeling. For now, he waits anxiously for Tamamori to finish preparing himself, running his fingers through Tamamori’s dampening hair and kissing him gently to relax him.

“Toshiya,” Tamamori says suddenly, both hands planted on either side of Miyata as he hovers over Miyata’s cock. “Hold it up for me.”

All Miyata can do is comply, grabbing himself at the base and gasping as Tamamori sinks down onto it. Tamamori’s biting his lip and it’s even hotter, especially as his body swallows Miyata inch by inch. Miyata has to move his hand when Tamamori’s ass bumps it into it, and it takes Miyata a second to accept that he’s actually _inside_ him, surrounded by those muscles that tighten around him so much.

“Mm, Toshiya is so big,” Tamamori mutters, and Miyata’s face floods with heat. “Do you know how to use it?”

Miyata’s hips answer for him, rolling sharply upward and Tamamori lets out a moan that Miyata feels around his cock. Moving inside Tamamori is even more unbelievable, the lube making it easy despite the tightness. “ _Yuuta_.”

“Let me help you out,” Tamamori says, then rocks back and forth, arching his back like he’s riding a bull. Miyata only makes it a few cycles before his body is responding, thrusting up at the same time Tamamori pushes down and there’s that moan again, only louder.

“Your mom,” Miyata warns, and Tamamori brings his fist to his mouth. His noises are muffled now, but there’s considerably more of them as Miyata plants his feet on the bed and grabs Tamamori’s thighs, holding him steady as he pushes up into him and makes him bounce.

The sight of Tamamori riding him is almost as hot as the feeling of actually doing it, Tamamori’s eyes alternating between squeezed shut and giving Miyata a lustful stare. It’s too dark for Miyata to see anything else, but that’s all he needs to see as Tamamori’s free hand clutches onto one of Miyata’s.

Tamamori arches a little more and now he seems to be screaming into his fist. What Miyata wouldn’t give to do this somewhere where they don’t have to be quiet, where he can hear all of Tamamori’s voice that sounds for Miyata. It’s so hard to believe that just a little while ago he was watching Tamamori from a distance, resigned to never being with him, and now he’s _inside_ him. Tamamori’s body molds around Miyata’s cock like they were made to fit together, tightening even more each time he hits a particular spot, and soon Miyata’s the only one controlling their movements.

Suddenly Tamamori feels too far away and Miyata rolls them over, earning a surprise gasp from Tamamori as he ends up on his back with Miyata between his legs. Miyata’s not tall enough to reach Tamamori’s face, but he presses his mouth to Tamamori’s chest and Tamamori grabs Miyata by the shoulders, pulling him as close as possible.

“Tell me,” Miyata says, his breath coming out in a wheeze, and a questioning noise mixes in with his moans. “Tell me how you feel about me.”

“Right now?” Tamamori hisses out, his legs spreading even more as Miyata pounds into him harder now that he has better leverage. “I can’t even tell you my name right now.”

Miyata gives a short laugh, which is quickly replaced by desperate gasps of air. “You know my name, though, right? I want to hear it.”

“Toshiya,” Tamamori whispers, leaning his head down to speak into Miyata’s hair. “Toshiya, Toshiya, I love you, Toshiya.”

All Miyata can do is groan, this position bringing him much closer to finishing, fueled by how his name sounds in Tamamori’s voice. “I love you, too, Yuuta. So much.”

Tamamori pries one of his hands off of Miyata’s back in favor of one of Miyata’s own, lacing their fingers together as he brings it between their chests and down. Then he feels Tamamori’s cock in his palm and instantly Tamamori clenches around him, letting out a choked moan before he returns his hand to his mouth, leaving Miyata on his own. Miyata’s pretty confident that he can take it from here, stroking Tamamori like he does to himself, and he can’t hold back his own groan as the resistance of Tamamori’s body gets greater.

“Yuuta,” Miyata gasps desperately. “Is it okay to come?”

Tamamori nods, his other hand lifting to shakily push Miyata’s hair out of his face. “Come,” he gets out, and Miyata’s world goes white. He comes so hard that he doesn’t know anything except Tamamori and love, how Tamamori feels inside and out, and he vaguely recognizes that he’s being urged upwards and attacked by Tamamori’s mouth. “Toshiya, please.”

The pleading brings him back to reality, where his hand is wrapped around Tamamori’s cock that’s desperately pushing into it. He moves a little faster, squeezing a little harder and this time Tamamori’s moan vibrates Miyata’s tongue as he spills over Miyata’s fingers. It’s followed by a content noise as Tamamori curls up to him, making no move to leave Miyata’s mouth, and Miyata gives in to his lazy kiss until he can’t ignore the mess on his hand any longer.

“You are so cute,” Tamamori says when he notices Miyata’s conundrum, chuckling as he grabs some tissues from the table and wipes Miyata’s fingers. He also reaches down to snap off Miyata’s condom and toss it all in the wastebasket, smirking when Miyata gasps. “Don’t get used to me doing all the work.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Miyata replies. He starts to roll off to the side, wanting to give Tamamori room to breathe, but Tamamori’s arms keep him right where he is. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Why didn’t _you_ tell _me_?” Tamamori counters with a knowing look. “I didn’t even know that’s what I felt, you know? Until you said it. Then I knew.”

“Nobody has said that to you before?” Miyata asks incredulously. “I find that hard to believe.”

“That’s the thing, they have,” Tamamori tells him, “but I know they only love me for my face, or however they perceive me to be. Ren, usually. I can’t act like that forever, it’s too much effort—not to mention deceiving. And if I act like myself, they don’t like me. I’m too weird to live up to their fantasies.”

“You’re weird enough for mine,” Miyata replies, and Tamamori raises an eyebrow. “Maybe not weird enough.”

Tamamori runs his hands up and down Miyata’s back. “I guess love makes you stupid after all, because all I can think about is laying here with you.”

“Then we’re both stupid,” Miyata says, leaning down to brush their lips together, and it tingles more than the first time. “What happens now?”

“Now?” Tamamori repeats, rubbing his nose against Miyata’s. “Now we make our own drama.”


End file.
